


Finding You Can Change

by hotsauce



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:27:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/hotsauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long time ago, in a tale as old as time, a Prince was transformed into a beast and all of his servants had to help him find his princess ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding You Can Change

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** Written for spn_cinema after _Disney's Beauty and the Beast_. MONDO thanks to zuben_eschamali and tebtosca for great beta and support ♥
> 
>   
> **ART**
> 
> Go see amindaya's post! As a following up to our efforts on Hercules for j2_everafter, we decided to team again for another fun twist on a Disney classic. I ♥ her for all her work and for going along with me for this story, based on my favorite Disney movie. 

A long time ago, but not too far away, a young prince was faced with a most curious predicament. 

An old maid stood on the front steps of Winchester Castle and begged for entry, for a calm place to settle away from the rains. The prince’s valet, ever the kindest soul, motioned her inside, but once their friendly conversation carried through the hollow halls, a great roar echoed in protest.

The valet shivered and then stood at attention, clearing his throat in hopes the guest would also take on an attentive stance. But, no, she stayed huddled down, dripping rain in the foyer and smiling darkly when the prince’s footsteps neared them.

“No one shall enter!” the prince bellowed from the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.

“But, sir, the lady is stuck-” the valet argued.

“ _No one_!”

The valet took long strides further into the great hall. “Sir, the storms are strong tonight.”

The prince growled in reply, and the valet looked over his shoulder to find the old maid’s dark eyes shining and solid on the prince still hovering in darkness.

The valet shivered, shocked into a short silence as the woman’s caustic stare hit him harder than his liege’s bad moods. “There are certainly many rooms in the palace. You shall not see her before dawn.”

“You’re right, because I won’t be seeing her for another second,” the prince announced as he strode across the hall. He grabbed the woman’s wrist and yanked her with him to the front door. With two quick sweeps, the door was opened and the old maid tossed out onto the front stoop.

She hurried to catch her step – surprisingly fast to stand up again – and lifted a long, wrinkled finger near the prince’s face. “You shall see, you young boar-”

“I shall no longer be seeing _you_.”

The valet sighed at the prince’s demeanor and lack of decorum.

The old maid twisted her finger in the air and there was a light hum as she wrinkled her nose. “For eternity, you shall live in solitary, just as you wish.”

“That I do,” he thundered.

“And your charges shall be just as useless as you in this world.”

The prince denied further conversation and slammed the door shut.

When the prince turned to face his valet, he was met with a tired, flimsy sigh. The valet squeezed at the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“You wish to speak?” the prince demanded.

“No, sir, I do not,” the charge replied warily. “But I shall say that this is no way to treat the villagers.”

The prince rushed past the valet, shoving a shoulder at him on his way to the stairs. “When you are prince, you may rule with an open door and foolish heart!”

“Until then, Sir?” the valet asked, carelessly.

“I wish for my dinner,” came the reply from somewhere on the second floor.

As his duty, the valet gathered the kitchen staff to bring the evening’s meal. They all moved stiffly, slowly, as if it would be their last meal together. The prince’s moods always – without fail – filled the castle with such despondency that the valet often found himself trying to lift the moods.

“Mrs. Rhodes,” the valet said with a smile to the kitchen’s head maid.

“Yes, boy?” she replied with a smirk.

He tipped his head and, smiling still, acknowledged that yes, she often took her orders from a young charge shorter in years. And she never let him forget it. “Perhaps the prince would prefer glug to tea this evening.”

One sharp eyebrow rose above her brow. “But the prince does not drink alone these-”

“I would presume our leader needs the aid in relaxing this evening.”

“And I shall raise you to say we all do.”

“Fair enough,” he allowed. “We shall share in the remaining after dinner.”

And they did finish off the large pot of warm brewed port wine after service. Once the prince had retired to his study, the staff joined together in the spacious kitchen, lit only by a handful of candles remaining from dinner.

“He needs himself relief,” the prince’s first escort grumbled at the top of his mug.

The valet nudged their shoulders together as he looked down at his friend slumped against the back counter. “Once in a while we all do.”

The escort glanced up, eyes light with surprise, but face still set in distress of the dark shroud over the castle these last few hours. “ _Uchyl sie duszo, bo ulewa idzie_ ,” he saluted with his mug and gulped the remainder of spiced wine.

The valet held his breath, reciting the words to himself. _Find some shelter, a deluge is coming._ Despite the nerves stewing in his belly at that warning, he teased, “Your tongue is stronger.”

“You have taught well,” the escort replied with a nod. Then he nearly cracked the cup when he dropped it to the counter and nodded. “Mrs. Rhodes, I’ll have another.”

The room murmured with agreement and a slight bit of devious merriment. On evenings such as this – with the prince at his worst and the staff at its best to cater to his needs – more glug was always in need.

…

In the morning, when sunlight slanted through the windows and shone off the expertly waxed floor, the valet winced through his rounds on the first floor. The castle was eerily quiet, save the clicks of the valet’s heels as he stepped. Perhaps more glug was not always the answer, given the slow rise of the staff, though he was rather grateful the prince was not yet awake to notice.

Once he made it to the kitchen, he was met with the oven ranges still firing, flames flickering to and fro as though there were a draft. He quickly turned down the fires and put a hand along the wall to test for chills, but there were none. “Mrs. Rhodes?” he called out, hoping one of the kitchen crew was nearby. “Mr. Beaver?”

Silence still carried on, and so did the valet, continuing his walk through the halls. When still he could not find a charge at his or her station, he took the steps two by two until he reached the escort’s room. It, too, was quiet and empty, with the bedsheets yanked open as if his friend had hurried from bed. The valet looked each direction in the hallway and felt as though his own breath was echoing in the stillness of the castle, and his heart began to beat out of his chest in fear.

 _No more glug, none at all_ , he told himself as he took quick steps down to the prince’s bedroom. Just as he pushed the door open, he was met by a seven-foot-tall beast who instantly flung its jaws wide open and roared hard enough to flip the valet’s hair back.

“Master!” the valet shouted and when no other reply came but the monster’s second roar, he raced down the hallway, hopped down the stairs, and jumped out the front door only to halt at the sight before him.

The old maid stood halfway up the yard, yet now she was taller, healthier, better dressed in a flowing red gown and matching long cape. Her eyes, however, they could not be mistaken from the shine he saw in them last night, nor the turn of her amused lips. And just a few feet before the valet stood the prince’s escort, motioning her off the grounds.

“The prince said to leave!” the escort yelled, which was followed by the beast roaring from the second-floor balcony.

“I did so warn you all!” the woman shouted over the beast’s continued growling and snarling.

“Us all did nothing to hurt you!” he cried out. “I tried to help. I let you indoors.”

“Stop!” the escort yelled at the valet. “Stop talking to her and she shall leave!”

“You serve your master,” she spat. “You all shall serve his penance as well! All with foolish, empty hearts!” She bowed her head and her lips moved quickly through a chant until she looked up at him from under the cape and grinned. “This place, its servants, and its master shall live the life he so pleases for you all. Not until he charms a fair maiden shall you exist!”

Wind swept up around them so that leaves soared through the air, the trees bent this way and that, and the valet’s hair flew in his face. He tucked it back behind his ears and tried to keep his balance as the winds threatened to knock him over.

“Alone,” she murmured. “And useless.” Then she snapped her fingers and the valet fell to his knees, blacking out a second later.

  
**  
_YEARS LATER_  
**  


  
**SPRING**  


 _Beeeeee ourrrrr guest, be our guest, put our service to the test …_

Jensen stopped at the entrance to the ballroom and rolled his eyes to the singing then scowled when his gears slid out of place. He pushed them back to two and seven and huffed as the melody continued on.

He hated this song. _Loathed_ it, wished to tie a noose around its neck and strangle it to death. There was no punishment harsh enough to murder the notes and lyrics.

Not so much that it was an awful song. In fact, it often got the rest of the staff dancing a quick round through the hallways and delightfully humming for the evenings, but he’d heard it dozens upon dozens of times in the last decade – and then some – and a man could only handle a single melody for so long until he wished to plunge slivers beneath his fingernails instead.

He shrugged at the memory of shavings out near the shed from the prince’s most recent attempt to chop firewood. Those wood shavings could possibly enhance his life at the moment. He looked down at his arm, followed the tan bend of his elbow joint, and frowned at the curled etchings of what should be his hand.

Shavings, yes. Fingernails, no. An unfortunate side effect of having been turned into a clock.

It could be worse he supposed, but still he stewed because traversing the two-story, four-wing, and nine-bedroom castle was not an easy thing to do with three-inch legs bowed out to settle his round belly of a clockface.

Jensen sighed and turned away from the mirror in the front hall, wanting anything than to see himself right then, but when he fully spun to the left he found himself face-to-face with a rather lovely maiden. Or rather, face-to-ankles.

The woman seemed to be more than three decades old with long wavy brown hair, a flowing gown that spoke of an upper echelon in the village, and smooth, tanned skin. She also seemed completely shocked to be staring down at Jensen. A clock. Whose mouth had dropped open at her sudden appearance in the front doorway.

“You, you, you, you …” she mumbled on, growing more nervous with each sound.

Jensen did not often follow into order when maidens came past, but he knew his duties behind the prince. As such, he bowed formally and raised his voice to be heard over the music. “I am Jensen and-”

“Jensen the clock, of course.”

He could tell she didn’t believe the words as she said them, so he went on. “And you are lost, madam?”

“Yes, lost. And scared. Potentially dreaming. Perhaps high. But absolutely leaving.”

Jensen helplessly raised his arm and puttered out syllables to stop her, but the door slammed shut just a second later.

“Very well then,” he muttered. “Not much to do around here anyway.”

He hobbled into the ballroom as he warily eyed Mrs. Rhodes spinning in the center of the dance floor with Colin and Sierra and the other children singing along. It would probably be quite a sweet sight if, in fact, Mrs. Rhodes was not a porcelain teapot and her young adopteds teacups.

When Jensen neared the sidebar, he heard soft voices singing along from atop the table. Danneel was softly smiling and murmuring the lyrics as she shucked her dust feathers in lieu of kicking her feet to the beat and Jared was … he was waving his candelabras like a lunatic ready to start Danneel aflame.

“Are you purposely trying to set her on fire?” Jensen asked as he glared up at them.

“Yes, Jensen, I am purposely trying to burn the duster,” Jared replied with a pert smile.

Danneel tipped her handle forward in a petulant nod. “Shall you be next with your crusty, wooden skin?”

Jensen sighed and looked back at the dancing tea party. “Why are you such a pain?”

“Why are you so old and bitter these days?”

Before Jensen could answer, Jared tsked. “Never you mind. Come join us up here, yes?” When Jensen glanced up, Jared smirked. “Or will that be difficult with your shoddy little arms?”

“I rather dislike you.”

“And yet you are contemplating how to come up and join us.”

It took some effort, but Jensen eventually climbed his way up the sidebar and plopped down next to Jared. Just as the song winded down and Jensen breathed a sigh of relief, Rosey ran his piano keys down, rumbling into lower octaves, and sang loudly. “Second verse, same as the first!”

“I hate this song. So, so, _so_ much,” Jensen complained.

“Yes, I have heard you say so once or twice,” Jared replied.

“And yet you let them play it every day.”

“Not every. Just when the sun is up and the birds are whistling. Besides, it keeps us all in tune when we need it.”

“I believe you have to have once been _in_ tune to be kept there.” Jared rolled his eyes and shook his head, only making Jensen want to prove his point. “There was a fair lady here. Just now,” he added quickly when Jared seemed slightly interested. “Heard your song and ran right back out onto the lawn.”

“She did not.”

“Did, too,” Jensen insisted while trying to cross his arms. “I saw it for myself. She was rather scared of the whole ruckus.”

“Maybe she was scared of the talking clock,” Danneel slipped in while beatifically batting her eyelashes.

Jensen sought out a sharp retort, but Jared leaned forward to block the view of Danneel. “Why did you not invite her in?”

“Why should I?” he asked with a sigh.

“Why should you _not_?”

Jensen harrumphed. “I don’t know why you bother anymore.”

“Jensen,” Jared murmured.

“It has been nearly fifteen years,” Jensen started up, growing angrier as he kept going. “Fifteen years and we’ve lived our lives as these, these … _things_. And the prince is no less moody than he ever was before. There is no chance that you will find him a heart and we will be damned to spend our lives as clock and candle!”

“And duster,” Danneel added, leaning forward and flicking a feather to point at herself. “But thank you for forgetting me as always.”

Jensen smiled even though he wasn’t feeling so jovial at the moment. “You are welcome.”

“You know,” Jared began thoughtfully. “If you were perhaps more willing to help us find our prince a mate, we could all go back to our former selves and you could stop being such a curmudgeon.”

“Highly unlikely,” Danneel mumbled.

Jensen sighed. “What’s the point in trying? The moment he shows his claws, or his teeth, or the mangy snarls of his fur, the women run.”

“Your faith is so encouraging,” Danneel said.

He sighed again. “The man is a beast. Literally.”

“This is why the prince needs our help,” Jared stressed. “We must aid him in finding his princess.”

“And how much help can we really be? You have wax for arms and I’m stuck with stubby legs.” Jensen struck his short decorative feet out to make a point.

Jared and Danneel both sighed and she crossed a feather over another as she shifted to watch the dancing in the center of the hall again. Jared slowly turned towards Jensen, casting an eerie glow around them as his flame flickered. His voice came low, and perhaps a bit disappointed. “You may want to tone down your bitterness of such things. You may not have noticed, Jensen, but you are the only one here with actual legs.”

“Danneel has more than enough,” Jensen pointed out.

“Yes, like an octopus,” she frowned. “Thank you for the reminder.”

“Must you always be this way?” Jared whispered at him. “Have you no heart?”

Jensen felt appropriately shamed and ducked his head as Jared lifted himself up then hopped down to the floor and shuffled off towards Rosey still playing in the corner.

Jared’s absence was not only obviously in the space left between Jensen and Danneel, but in the darkness that now filled their corner of the room. It seemed as those Jared had taken his light and joy to Rosey and the dancing going on across the hall, for they all began another rousing round of _Be Our Guest_ while Danneel and Jensen sat in a long silence.

“He’s so temperamental,” Jensen finally mumbled.

“You ever notice that he is so often that way when you’re around?” Danneel asked with a smirk. “Your sourness rubs off on him, I would say.”

He began to roll his eyes, but his hands stuttered apart again and he fumbled to set them back. She laughed at him, feathers fluffing up, and he growled. “Stuff it, Danny.”

As she rose, she spun so her feathers smacked him in the face, and she jumped off the table to join the others.

…

Not but one spin of Jensen’s hour hand and they could all hear the long, heavy footsteps of their master on the second floor.

All movement ceased, save Rosey. The grand piano carried on his tune, singing delightfully through the chorus before building a great crescendo.

_While the candlelight's still glowing  
Let us help you, We'll keep going  
Course by course, one by one  
'Til you shout, "Enough! I'm done!"_

Jared scuttled across the floor, waving his candles about and loudly whispering. “Rosey! Rosey! Stop it! He’s coming-”

“ _CEASE THAT NOOOOOOISE!_ ” came the feral roar from the prince as he stormed into the room.

Rosey slapped his fall shut, keys rattling beneath the cover, and Jared spun about to face the tall, dark beast towering over him.

“What is happening down here?” the prince growled. It was so hard, in fact, that Jared’s flames flickered from the prince’s wide, frightful mouth. “How many times have I told you-”

“Yes, I know, sir, but we-” Jared tried to argue, but it was futile, for the beast ran right over him with more complaints.

It was angry and loud, and so like it always was when the prince caught wind of the staff trying to continue on with their functions to find him a partner.

The prince had always been a bit surly and sometimes Jensen wondered if his own skepticism about the curse rubbed off on the prince or vice versa. Either way, Jensen never carried on like _this_ \- huffing and storming about the hall, spitting this way and that.

The staff was appropriately frightened and cowering. Jared tried to support himself and the point of the song and dance rehearsal, but it was obvious he was on the losing end of this battle. Jensen sighed with a drop of his head and shuffled over to the prince and Jared. “Sire,” Jensen said firmly. “It’s certainly just a fun afternoon and –”

“ _Fun?!_ ” the prince snarled.

“–Just a little dancing–”

“We do not _dance_ in the castle.”

“–And perhaps when they are all done with this song–”

“ _No_ more songs.”

“–Then Mrs. Rhodes can fix you up a bowl of porridge.” When their master’s face loosened a bit, Jensen added, “With extra grapes and apricots.” The prince seemed to think it over and Jensen went for the kill. “All nice-like. Just the way the queen always did on the side.”

As Jensen knew would happen, the prince glanced over his shoulder and towards the kitchen. It had been long before Jensen first arrived at the castle – or Jared, Danneel, even Mrs. Rhodes – but Beaver had stories of a young prince being propped up on the woodblock counter while the queen had nudged staff out of her way and prepped a bowl of porridge for her only child.

The prince quietly growled then sighed when he turned back to Jensen. “No need for that,” he huffed. “Just keep it quiet down here. This is a palace, not a vagabond troupe.”

“Yes, sir,” Jensen accepted with a small smile and nod.

Once the prince was gone, the room let out a collective sigh and Jared even fall back to the floor with a clank.

When Jensen looked at him, Jared pathetically smiled. “Thank you for that.”

He wanted to smile, knowing he’d distracted the prince from further tearing into the staff – and Jared especially – yet, there was a part of him that wished there had been no song and dance going on in the first place.

…

Jensen heard the murmurs drifting throughout the lower level. There was a maiden in the castle, and Jared was corralling the staff to get everything ready.

_Spic and span the pots!_

_Brew the tea!_

_Air out the linens!_

_Pull the drapes!_

Jared was always so excitable when a woman happened past the grounds and came into the castle looking for reprieve from long travels. His energy was charming and contagious; everyone responded to Jared’s smiles and cheerful directives. Even Jensen found himself hiding a smile at Jared waving his flames around to lead the staff in setting the castle just right.

Jensen left Jared to his duties in commanding the home, just as he did even before _The Change_ , and hopped up the stairs to spy on their guest.

As always, the woman was settled in the last bedroom on the right, furthest from the prince’s wing, and in the room with the largest windows so she could (hopefully) be charmed by the luscious green of the back lawn.

He nudged the door open and watched the young blond maiden roam the room as she took it all in. She lightly touched the draperies, ran fingers along the chest of drawers, pushed on the mattress to test its firmness, then lifted a hand mirror up to look at herself.

“Everything is to your liking?” Jensen asked.

She jumped with a loud shriek. In doing so, she dropped the mirror and it shattered across the floor, making them both wince. “Who’s there?!” It took some time, but she finally saw Jensen just a foot off the ground, still in the doorway. “Oh, you are …”

“I am Jensen,” he said with a bow. “Prince Jeffrey’s first escort.”

“A prince lives here?” she asked, surprise and excitement obvious in her blue eyes. “I’d thought the castle was abandoned. But oh! A prince is here!”

Suddenly, she seemed quite young and far too eager to be fit for Prince Jeffrey. Jensen pitied her for the shock of what a monster their master really would be. “Yes, indeed. And he is single, if you are into that sort of thing,” he said dryly.

She stepped closer and crouched down in front of him, whipping her long dress around her legs with a flourish. “I just might be.”

Her twisted smirk made him want to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t stand to reset his clock, so he shook his head briefly instead. “As I would imagine. And may I ask the maiden’s name?”

“You may,” she replied with a smart chuckle. “I am Alona, and I was lost, but perhaps newly found.” She put her hand out and tried to grab Jensen’s arm to shake, but it would never work – never had before. She snorted and flicked her hand in the air instead. “That is rather unfortunate for you. No hands!”

Jensen grunted. “Yes, I’m quite aware.”

Then they heard quick thumping nearing them and Jensen sighed at the typical skid of Jared’s base across the floor when the valet joined them.

“I heard crashing! Is everything okay up here?” Jared asked in a rush.

“You are a candle!” she announced.

“And you are a genius,” Jensen grumbled.

Jared elbowed Jensen out of the way with a quick glare before he bowed to Alona. “My lady, is everything right in your room?”

“Everything is magical! You are enchanted!”

Jensen leaned into Jared’s side and muttered, “As I said, genius.”

Jared elbowed him again and smiled at Alona. “Yes, that we are. Can we help you with anything at this time?”

“Perhaps a tour of the grounds? And a meeting with your prince? I am so interested in meeting your master.”

“Yes, of course, my lady,” Jared insisted, striking one candle towards the door. “We shall show you around and then you may meet the prince at dinner. We have a fine meal planned for your arrival …”

Jensen watched as Jared led Alona from the room, and he wanted to follow them and join Jared on the tour. There was, however, a deep emptiness blooming in his chest, and he rather wished there was no Alona in the castle or need to romance maidens at any time. It all became too dramatic and raised everyone’s spirits until they came crashing down once their beast scared the potential betrothed away.

He heard a small break of happy laughter – Alona’s – followed by Jared’s light chuckle, and he was moving into the hallway before he could question why he had to see what all they were getting up to.

…

Down on the main floor, Jared and Mrs. Rhodes were showing Alona the prince’s collection of portraits painted back before The Change, when Misha and Shep would spend hours in the sunroom to capture their master idly reading, bird watching, or writing his young sister letters.

“Oh, the prince is so handsome,” Alona cooed while finger-brushing her long, golden hair.

Jensen groaned.

It wasn’t even the best painting that she was admiring. Jensen had preferred the one of their master holding a rook in his hand and smiling over a chessboard, salt-and-pepper beard making him seem distinguished and soft at the same time. He always fondly remembered that afternoon when the staff had crowded in the study and watched the prince’s old childhood friend, Pellegrino, match him move for move before capturing their master’s queen and forcing a begrudging checkmate. The group had held a collective breath until Prince Jeffrey slid the chessboard towards his mate, released a withered sigh, and growled, “You dirty little pirate.”

In reply, Pellegrino had snuffed out a laugh, which led the prince to full-on belly laugh. The room lightened for the entire afternoon as the two old friends drank port wine and relived their childhood together.

Shep – now a paint palette – shuffled to Jensen’s side. Jensen glanced at him, but stayed silent as they both watched the tour move further down the artway. “She’s prettier than the last one,” Shep said and Jensen still stayed quiet. “You think she’ll let us paint her?” Shep asked.

“She seems quite enthused to make her way as queen of the castle. I would imagine she’d let you sculpt her form of a spruce and foolishly love it nonetheless.”

“That would be an ugly sight,” Shep grumbled. “I don’t even have hands, you buffoon.”

“’Tis my point.”

Shep nudged him rather hard and Jensen stumbled forward. “Whether she has grace or not, we shall try to win her over, yes?”

Jensen deflated with Shep’s condescension. “Who says this will be better than the last score or so?”

“Your faith is astounding.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

“I’m sure they’re all genuine when they do.” When Jensen glanced at him, Shep winked his spot of red paint. “Why are you not joining Jared? Another lover’s spat?”

Jensen bristled at that. Shep – among others – had always teased and taunted the both of them, but there was nothing there. They were close before The Change, and for a bit of time directly thereafter. Time wore on them all differently and since then, Jensen’s commitment to turning the old maid’s curse had waned while Jared’s conviction soared to new heights.

It made it … difficult … to be around all the time.

Before Jensen could fashion a proper offended response, his hands flicked to five and twelve and his gears sputtered to life as his belly rang out the new hour. “Oh for the love of-” Jensen yelled as he tried to muffle the noise and force his minute hand out of place.

Shep folded over in laughter. “That will never not be funny.”

Jensen reached out to smack Shep, but the palette bent back out of the way with brighter laughter.

“How adorable!” Alona cried out as she hurried across the hall and knelt down before Jensen and Shep. “A paint board as well! This place is full of so many lovely surprises.”

“You should see the prince,” Jensen said with a sharp smile.

Jared twisted his way into the mix and glared at Jensen as he forced a happier tone. “Mrs. Rhodes, please take Ms. Alona out to the garden. I’m sure the fair maiden would enjoy a few flowers for her hair.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Jared,” Mrs. Rhodes replied as she nudged Alona’s ankle.

Once they were out of sight, Jared sighed. “Jensen, why are you so set on ruining all things?”

“Not all,” Jensen insisted. Jared stared at him long enough to make Jensen uneasy. “Just some things.”

“Alona is the first maiden in the castle for nearly a year and you are _ruining_ it.”

Jensen huffed and gestured towards the back of the castle where the maiden and Mrs. Rhodes had gone. “She’s a child, Jared.”

“She is of age and here. That’s more than enough!”

“What would it matter? You believe that in just one evening, she will fall for the prince and stay here for eternity?”

Jared’s eyes widened as he pleaded, “You never know. If only you would _try_ to help us.”

Jensen sighed and covered his face with the curl of his hand. “Jared, I have tried for years. I am tired of all this ridiculousness. It always ends the same.”

“Do you not want to change back?”

He dropped his arm and looked at Jared. There was nothing that Jensen wanted more than go back to the night before they all transformed, but fifteen years had made him weary.

“You have grown bitter and angry,” Jared murmured.

Jensen snorted. “And you have grown far too hopeful for words.”

Jared stared for long moments until he frowned. “I miss my friend Jensen.”

“As do I,” Jensen admitted. Seeing Jared’s face fall made Jensen’s stomach swoop, and he couldn’t manage to stay in this conversation for much longer. He took a deep breath and stepped away. “I shall check on the prince. Dinner will come soon.”

Without another word, Jensen hobbled to the stairs and up to the second floor to find their master huddled in the corner of his suite. “Sir, there is a maiden here for dinner.”

Prince Jeffrey snuffed out a loud breath. “So I have seen. The castle is anew with light and chatter.”

“You do not like it,” Jensen said more than asked.

“Do you?” The prince rumbled an angry laugh. “Of course you do not. Nor do I.”

Jensen shuffled to Prince Jeffrey’s side and realized the prince had been watching Mrs. Rhodes lead Alona through the garden. When the young maiden plucked a lily and tucked it behind her ear with a bright smile, Jensen made a thoughtful noise. “She is beautiful. And friendly. If you like that sort of thing.”

“But?”

“She is far too … cheerful for my liking.”

Prince Jeffrey shook his head with another laugh. “Jensen, what would I do without your honesty?”

Jensen smirked in return. “Speak to no one?”

The prince stroked one of his furry hands over Jensen’s head. Despite the eerie feeling of the long hair dangling at his back, Jensen felt a tingle of comfort at his master’s comfort. Jensen had always served the prince well, before and even now.

“I feel as though you are close to talking to no one as well.”

Jensen looked up at Prince Jeffrey and rolled his eyes, hardly caring this time that his hands spun around. “Now who is far too honest?”

“I am a beast. I’m allowed to be brute.”

“What was your excuse before?”

Prince Jeffrey swatted Jensen’s back, knocking him over and laughing when Jensen struggled to stand again.

Once upright, Jensen huffed and pushed his hands back into place. He glared at the prince, who was still looking amused. “Dinner awaits in an hour plus. Do be sure to wear your better face when you arrive.”

“Only if you do.”

Jensen grumbled as he stepped away. “You are so lucky you are the master.”

…

“You did not instruct him to groom?” Jared whispered to Jensen as they watched the prince and Alona eat in silence.

Jensen took his eyes off the maiden at the far end of the table to find their master another fifteen seats down on the other side. Prince Jeffrey’s dark curly mane was indeed a mess, falling in his eyes, tangled around his ears, and his nails were overgrown and dirtied with grime.

He smirked at Jared. “We had just one day, not a month to clean him.”

“Is he not interested in Ms. Alona?”

“He has not yet said. But I shall ask him and pass a note back to you between studies.”

Jared actually chuckled, a soft sound that pleased Jensen, considering the last they spoke in the front hall just a few hours before. He nudged Jensen in the side. “Do you even remember your studies?”

“A long, long time ago,” Jensen replied with a sage nod, even as he was joking. “I was taught the fine art of matchmaking, but failed miserably.”

“That is very obvious. Especially of late.”

“Also beastly grooming.”

“Mmhmm. I can see.”

Prince Jeffrey startled the room when he dropped his fork to the floor and the clattering silver echoed in the room. Their master looked around then shrugged, picking up his turkey leg and slobbering around it as he chewed the meat off the bone.

Ms. Alona, rightfully, squeaked at the sight and forced a disgusted smile when Prince Jeffrey finished the leg and grinned at her. His beard was slick with turkey fat and juice, and chunks of skin were stuck between his front teeth.

Jared sighed and covered his face. “I feel as though you taught him that.”

Jensen forced a smile when Prince Jeffrey turned his grin on him. It seemed as though the prince thought he was doing well so far – the maidens did not often last this long.

The prince then dug a claw into his teeth to free up the stuck food and dropped skins on the table, still to Ms. Alona’s horror.

“And that,” Jared tsked. “I am sure he got that from you.”

“He did not, but I am quite proud anyhow.”

…

“He is ugly and disgusting and hairy, and – and – and _creepy!_ ” Alona declared as she rushed down the stairs and to the front door.

Jared hopped to chase after her and Jensen watched from the second floor. “Ms. Alona! If you would only give us one more evening!”

“You never said he was an animal!” she argued, tugging the door open.

“Well, no, we did not,” Jared admitted.

Jensen frowned a little. They had learned early on that one stipulation of the old maiden’s curse was they were to not tell any visitors what had happened or how it could all be reversed.

Jared still attempted to salvage the chance to make things right with Alona. “But he was so trying to behave for you.”

She huffed. “Oh, and does his normal behavior include gutting a pig with his bare hands?”

Jensen made a thoughtful noise because they had seen that happen in the prince’s foulest of moods.

“Well, no, madam, but if you were to stay for another night, he could warm up to you.”

“Warm up to _me_? People warm to me all the time. I’m a warmer!”

Jensen covered up a laugh as Alona harrumphed, stomped her foot, and spun out the front door with a pitiful display of petulance.

Jared fell forward, knocking his head on the now closed door. Repeatedly

“She is a warmer, Jared!” Jensen called out. “She is very warm!”

They both began laughing, Jared growing giddy as he slid down the door and turned over to sit against it.

Jensen hopped down the stairs and joined Jared on the floor, smiling when Jared had to blink tears out of his eyes.

“Perhaps next time she can light the fireplace for us,” Jared suggested.

“But, Jared, why would we need to light the fire when she is so _warm_?”

“However will we survive in such a cold place?” Jared hummed as he slid lower and lay out on the floor.

Jensen looked down at Jared and softly smiled. “You are aware you have fire for hands, correct? You can keep yourself warm all night.”

Jared raised his candles and studied them, making them flicker bright, then as small as possible without them going out, until he brought them back up to full flame. “It is not the same as another.”

“It’s harder to do it on your own?” Jensen asked with a smirk.

Jared snorted and smacked Jensen’s leg. “Not nearly as much fun, that’s for sure.”

Jensen tipped his head back and stared at the tall ceilings above them. The castle was surprisingly quiet following dinner service and he wondered what the rest of the staff was up to.

Suddenly, there was a thunder of a crash up on the second floor. Then another, and they both spun their heads toward the prince’s wing.

“Oh, that does not sound good,” Jared whispered.

It could have been a chair or desk, but something had definitely been thrown against a wall and shattered to pieces.

“I can’t blame him,” he mumbled before he could think better of sharing such a thing.

“For what?” Jensen didn’t answer, so Jared prodded again. “For what can’t you blame him?”

Jensen sighed and shook his head. “Just leave it, Jared. There’s been enough for the day.”

Jared smacked lips together then tapped Jensen’s side. “I’m sorry about earlier, with the-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Jensen quickly said. “I don’t mean to be such a pain.”

“Yet, you succeed.” After a beat, Jared added, “Very well … and often.”

Jensen kicked Jared’s base. “Alright, I get your point.”

Jared did not answer, and Jensen did not push the issue. Instead, they sat – and lay – in silence. Mostly, silence that is, for they could still hear minor rumblings from the far end of the prince’s wing.

“He is so angry,” Jensen whispered, almost to himself, as he did not intend to really share the thought. 

When Jared glanced at Jensen curiously, Jensen sighed and looked straight ahead. He knew much more of the prince than any others in the castle, and he often wanted to tell them stories to ease the way their master sometimes came down on them. But he also had great loyalty to Prince Jeffrey above all.

Stumbling with the words, Jensen tsked at himself, knowing he would tell Jared because … it was still Jared. “It is as hard on the prince as it is on us all.”

Jared shuffled up to sit against the door again. “How so? How is it so hard on him, the monster.”

“He’s not a monster,” Jensen argued immediately. “As if he means to be this way.”

“As if he can’t behave as a civilized human being!”

Jensen cleared his throat before he became too riled up. “Do you think he enjoys being this way? Or having to be put on display when you all set dinners and scenes with the maidens? Performing at his best behavior? And still refused?”

Jared bit into his lip then dropped his sight to his flames crossing near his lap. “I had not thought …”

“No one does. The man does not _wish_ to be a beast, and yet he cannot control it, has no luck in changing it.” Jensen dropped his voice even lower. “Jared, please do not tell the others.”

“But if everyone knew –”

“No, they mustn’t.”

“– then we would be more careful around him, and for him. And everyone would be much–”

Jensen stumbled up to his feet burst out, “Jared, do not!” He sucked in a long breath, chest heaving with it, and frowned at the broken shock across Jared’s face. “Please, do not say a word. For the prince, or for me, but keep quiet.”

Even as Jared attempted to argue, follow Jensen out of the room, and even apologize, Jensen kept on his way without another word.

 

  
**WINTER**  


A cold storm descended upon the hillside, and the grey-blue skies rendered the castle dark and shadowed both day and night. It affected all of the staff for sure, yet it also kept the prince to his wing and out of the way.

Jensen stood in the opening to the ballroom and watched the few of the staff gathered around Rosey as they tried to carry a new tune. He was beyond grateful it was a change from the one they’d sung for years now, but somehow he was more annoyed with the whole matter. 

He was prepared to leave the whole crew be when Sadie’s barking could be heard carrying through the halls. Jensen shuffled against the wall as the footstool barreled through the front hall, fringe swaying this way and that, and she kept on barking and howling until she skidded to a stop into Jared.

Jared laughed and threw his candles up to calm the girl, cooing as well. “Oh, girl, are you okay? Everything good?” he asked in a high voice as he stroked over her fringe and swatted her padding.

Sadie shook from side to side and rammed her head into Jared’s middle, excitedly yipping. Before more could be asked of her, she ran behind Jared and headbutted him, shoving him across the room and out into the hallway. 

Jared kept on laughing the whole way, through the hall, down the west wing, and out to the garden. The crew followed, and soon enough, Jensen had enough interest to do the same.

Once in the drawing room, Jensen had to slip through the crowd pressed tight against the glass doors so he could see what had struck them all. He found himself pressing his round face to the mirror, clinking glass upon glass, but continuing to stare at a dark form lying in the middle of the lawn. 

“What is it?” Colin asked quietly.

Suddenly the form moved, sliding up to sit and Jensen realized it was a person - a woman, really, who suddenly flipped back the hood of her cloak. Seconds later, clouds pulled back from the sky and the sun began to shine, reflecting off the snow that covered the grounds. Once Jensen’s eyes adjusted to the glare, he could see the woman’s long, curly blond hair wound up around her hair and giving the effect of a golden halo.

Sierra gasped. “It’s an angel.”

Jensen looked down at the young teapot and saw how wide and bright her eyes were, mouth dropped wide with wonder. 

“Sierra, honey,” Mrs. Rhodes laughed. “It’s not an-”

Everyone sucked in a breath when the woman rose and snapped her cloak out, snow fluttering away from her in a glittery storm. 

“She fell from the sky!” Colin called out, jumping up and down.

“Of course she’s an angel!” Sierra insisted.

“Oh, look at that!” Colin shouted, jumping once again. 

The woman reached into the air and a bluebird swept down from a nearby tree and perched on her finger. She whistled at it and the bird swung its head back and sang right back.

“She’s so pretty!”

She absolutely was, Jensen thought, and he was certain that she would be positively beautiful without that sun-tinged halo lighting her. 

“Children,” Mrs. Rhodes said as sternly as possible without lifting her voice. “Mr. Jared?” she prompted while looking at him.

For some unthinkable reason, Jared looked completely lost; the entire lot did, in fact. So, Jensen cleared his throat and nudged the teapots away from the class. “C’mon now. It’s not polite to stare. Let her get herself in order and then we can all fuss over her.”

As Mrs. Rhodes led the children away, and a few other staff followed, Jared glanced at Jensen then stood tall and nodded at the rest of the crew around them. “We need to spic and span the pots and start the tea and draw her bed. Let’s go!” he added when no one immediately moved into action. 

“Jared, don’t you think,” Jensen started, tugging on Jared’s arm, except Jared yanked it right back and walked on.

“Angel or not, we have a show to run,” Jared announced with a bright laugh.

…

Her name was Samantha and her father was a blacksmith. She’d been on her way back to town from the next village’s winter festival when the latest storm hit and she’d grown weary from her travels, collapsing in the back lawn.

Jensen’s not entirely sure he wants to take the story to heart - after all she was serenading five bluebirds by the time he’d opened the doors and called her into the drawing room - but here she sat with a warm smile and rosy cheeks, telling the staff her tale as they all gathered next to a roaring fire in the den. 

Jared appeared at Jensen’s side and sighed happily. Jensen glanced at him but stayed quiet, choosing to watch Samantha continue to charm the crew. Or waiting for a chink in her beautifully whimsical armor.

“She’s perfect,” Jared whispered. 

Jensen began to roll his eyes, then pushed his second hand back into place. “She’s been here half an hour. You can’t be so sure.”

“I have a good feeling.”

“From what? The bluebirds?”

Jared stared at him for uncomfortable moments until Jensen bristled. 

“What?” Jensen huffed, nudging his first hand in self-consciousness.

“Is it possible that when we all changed, the old maid also took your heart?”

Jensen froze, remembering that Jared had made such a comment before, a few times over in fact, and it never got any easier to hear it. It saddened Jensen. He suddenly felt a heavy tick inside his chest, his gears vibrating within though he knew it was something else. In human form, it would have been his heart, pulse going wild with the insult. And also the truth.

Jensen had a heart, in theory. But he did, in fact, believe someone else had claimed it so long ago. 

He didn’t often like thinking it, but the man - well, candlestick - staring at him was that someone.

His mouth went dry and he had no words, but he was thankful for the distraction of Sierra scuttling across the hall and skidding to a stop in front of them.

“Jared! Need help” she cried in between panting, teacup wobbling with it. “Sadie’s … and the princess … and she-!”

Jared ran his candleabra along Sierra’s handle. “Sweetheart she’s not a princess.”

“Not yet!” she shouted excitedly. “But she will someday, right?!”

Jared chuckled and glanced at Jensen, who had to fight a smile at the excitable girl. “Maybe someday. We can’t get ahead of ourselves,” Jared insisted. 

“Okay, okay,” she hushed. “But one day. And we can all be human again?”

Jared softly smiled at her. “Yes, we can.”

Just then, a short yip of a dog followed by a woman’s shriek alerted them all.

“Oh! Right! Samantha and Sadie!” Sierra shouted then shuffled quickly back from where she came with Jared following.

And just like that, watching Jared calm the young teacup and then flip into in-charge mode had Jensen’s heart changing its own gears from pain over too many feelings for his best friend to being reminded why he had them all in the first place.

Jensen shook his head then hurried to the sitting room where the ruckus was, and found Sadie - the footstool - excitedly yipping and jumping at Samantha’s knees. Samantha, surprisingly, was laughing and shrieking with joy as she pet the rambunctious stool. As always, it was Jared who shushed Sadie, patting her back and telling her to calm down.

Sadie turned to Jared, licked his face, spun back to Samantha, then finally settled down and slipped beneath Samantha’s feet to let the maiden rest. 

“She is quite charming,” Samantha said with a smile. “As is this room.”

Jensen was shocked by Samantha then identifying the woodwork technique of the wainscoting and even won over Shep and Misha when she began discussing the style of the artwork on the walls.

When he looked across the room, everyone was grinning and some were even jittery with happiness as they kept asking Samantha question after question after question. About her life, her home, her father, the fair she’d visited before coming here … neverending questions and Jensen slowly backed away from the melee of everyone shouting over one another to voice their next inquiry.

Once Jensen was in the doorway, he found Jared watching him with an odd look. Jensen tried for a smile, but he was certain his friend knew it was forced. Especially when Jared sadly nodded, excusing Jensen from the room, and slowly turned back to the maiden’s story.

…

“And how is this one?” Prince Jeffrey mumbled from where he was huddled in the corner.

Jensen slowly approached, watching his prince carefully turn a page in an anthology of short stories he had likely reread a dozen times over throughout his life. Pages snagged under the beast’s nails, and Jensen frowned. 

“Jensen?” he snarled.

Jensen snapped to attention and gulped. The prince was obviously in a mood, most evidenced by the loud, long tear of a paper and his _harumph_ when they both looked at the long nail of his index finger stuck in the middle of the page. Jensen hurried to the prince’s side and carefully pulled the page away from the prince’s hand then closed the book and put it to the side. “She is,” Jensen started carefully, unsure of what to say to describe her. “Very beautiful.”

“Aren’t they all,” the prince grumbled.

“This one … she has a soft, tender quality to her.”

The prince stared at Jensen, and Jensen was certain they were both now unsure why Jensen bothered to say that much. It was not exactly his style in these matters. After a moment, the prince sighed and stalked to the windows where, predictably, Mrs. Rhodes, the teacups, and Jared were showing Samantha the grounds. 

Jensen saw the moment that the prince’s back stiffened and his shoulders hunched down. “Sir?” he asked gently. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, things are fine,” he mumbled, turning away from the window. 

“She is quite kind and has charmed the staff,” Jensen offered, hoping to calm his master.

“So did the last one, and she ran out before the plum pudding had set.”

“This seems … different.” Jensen swallowed hard, realizing somehow it really was feeling different than all the other times. He wasn’t sure where the tiny bit of nerves came in thinking of it.

“Dinner as usual tonight?” the prince asked brusquely.

There was a strange edge to the prince’s voice that Jensen couldn’t identify just yet. “Yes, dinner tonight. If you are well enough to atten-”

“I’m well enough,” the prince snarled. “Just, let’s get this over with.”

…

“I am full of surprise,” Jared murmured from beside Jensen.

It was quiet in the dining hall for service, yet it didn’t feel as strained as the other dinners before. Jensen had to admit that he, also, was shocked with the restrained way the prince had sipped his soup, cut through his turkey leg, and was now slowly spooning pudding up to his mouth, constantly glancing up to Samantha at the far end of the table.

“What did you slip into his drink to get him this way?” Jared asked.

Jensen shook his head quickly then stopped when the prince looked over in worry. He smiled encouragingly at the prince, which made the prince smile a little. Then apparently it gave the master a boost of energy and confidence because he wiped his mouth clean and stood, extending his hand out as he invited Samantha out to the terrace for a nightcap.

Jensen spoke from the side of his mouth as the two diners moved to the balcony doors. “I’m quite unsure myself what world we are currently in.”

Even as the prince and his guest were gone from the room, Jensen and Jared stood in their place, unmoving. “I cannot decide which is more shocking, his behavior or her reaction,” Jared mumbled, even though there was no one else in the room to hear them.

“You mean the fact that she had not reacted for all of dinner?”

“As if this were commonplace?”

“Dining with a monster.”

“Yes that,” Jared answered automatically then turned to Jensen. “He’s not a monster.” When Jensen granted him a small smile, thankful for the change in opinion, Jared ducked his head and looked back to the doors the prince and Samantha had exited. “He is a man of the court in a bit of a sticky situation.”

“Well look at you,” Jensen nearly sing-songed. 

“No, let’s not,” Jared insisted as he rushed across the room and to the windows overlooking the terrace. 

Jensen joined him and they both pressed their faces to the glass to witness the prince pointing out constellations while Samantha smiled, nodded, and asked about others. 

“I do not understand this,” Jared said with a tiny smile, saying that he most definitely did know what was happening.

As did Jensen, and he immediately felt his gears speed up and his first and second hands begin to rattle in anxiety. The prince liked Samantha, found her pretty and sweet and was blushing at her mere existence right here in the castle, and while Jensen wanted the best for his master, there were other worries at play.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Jensen chattered on as he hurried to the balcony doors, threw one open, and stepped outside. He didn’t get very far, however, for Jared tugged him right back inside the dining hall and slammed the door shut again.

“ _What_ ever are you doing? Are you insane?”

“No, I’m not!” Jensen insisted. “I’m quite sane! Sane enough to see exactly what is happening here.”

“That the prince is charming her? Oh, no,” Jared said dramatically, tossing a candle across his forehead. “How will we ever survive a love match in the castle.” He threw both his hands down and fixed Jensen with a hard stare. “I think we will survive quite well, especially as we’ll be _back in our bodies_!”

“Jared, it is not that simple-”

“It _is_ that simple. You have some strange fixation on remaining as you are. To keep that wooden li’l manic thing inside.” Jared grumbled and knocked at Jensen’s chest, making the gears rattle within and Jensen to stumble back with surprise. And a bit of sadness. “But there are some of us who would like the prince to be happy and in love, and for us to be back to normal.”

Jensen opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come. Not even when Jared lifted his eyebrows in wait, or when Jared sighed and turned away. It wasn’t until Jared was nearly out of the room that Jensen said, “What about when she does not love him back?”

“What if she does?” Jared asked from where he’d stopped in the doorway.

It was as though all of Jensen’s gears locked up, there was such a tightness in his chest. He wanted to open up his front, held his hand over the side lock then kept his arm cradled across his middle. “What are the chances?”

Jared glanced over and his shoulders hunched down. “We’ll never know until we try.”

…

In the morning, Jensen was groggy as he made his rounds through the palace. His first stop was for tea and porridge for the prince, and he led Mrs. Rhodes back to the prince’s chambers to deliver the breakfast. She chatted incessantly about Samantha and how sweet and lovely and warm and even funny she was.

“She has a wonderful smile. Had one many times for the prince when he brought her into the kitchen for custard late into the evening.”

Jensen stalled at the door to their master’s room as Mrs. Rhodes smirked at him. 

“He then left her in our company, with the respect of proper royalty, and she retired to bed shortly thereafter.”

He knocked on the door to do something other than gawk or ask silly questions that would do nothing to help his unease over the situation. 

“This could be the one,” she said quickly and winked at him.

Jensen tried on a smile, sure it wasn’t a very strong one but tried all the same, and knocked again before nudging the door open. 

The prince was lost in thought at the window, sun streaming in to light the space. The armchair there was the one Prince Jeffrey often sulked in, but this morning, he had the chair moved right next to the window and a book opened flat in his lap as he turned a page, barely nicking the corner with his claw. 

“Sire?” Jensen tried carefully.

“Hmm?” the prince replied softly.

“Your breakfast?”

The prince motioned them in then waved his hand about the area to his left, keeping his eyes on the book.

Jensen went to the window and began tugging the curtain closed, blocking some of the light so it wasn’t so bright. “Sir, you will go blind with this much sun in your eyes.”

Without picking his eyes up from the book, he put his arm out and stopped the curtain from moving further. “I’m rather enjoying it,” he murmured in reply.

There was this overwhelming feeling of worry and confusion filling Jensen up, but also a tiny nagging notion that this was exactly what the prince needed to relax. Sunlight … a good book … and a new love interest, apparently, as Jensen realized that Samantha was down on the lawn with Sienna, Colin, and Rider, all chasing Sadie across the grass. Many of the staff were watching it, laughing to each other, at the scene of Samantha running after teacups and a footstool that she could most certainly outrun but was not at the moment, instead zigzagging this way and that with bright smiles and laughter. 

Jensen looked up to his master and even if it seemed the prince was not watching the scene, there was a soft smile on his lips. And even if it seemed his eyes were not moving on the page, he still turned the page and pretended to. 

Clearing his throat, clearing the tension he felt in his chest, Jensen looked back to the yard and saw Danneel and Jared elbowing each other with broad smiles before Jared nudged her hard enough to join the game. Jared grinned and seemed to take in the palace with a long sigh before finding Jensen watching him back. 

Jensen lamely, slowly, brought his hand up to wave, and Jared dropped his head in a short nod before moving into the game and becoming distracted by all that. 

“It _is_ a rather lovely morning out there,” the prince mumbled. When Jensen looked over his shoulder, the prince was staring right at him. “Perhaps you need yourself some sun as well, Jensen.”

“I am good.”

“You have never been good in your life,” he rumbled with laughter. 

“I am rather insulted,” Jensen mumbled, turning back to the window. “But I should know better than to take you seriously. After all, you’re reading _The Iliad_ upside down.” 

“I am not.”

Still, Jensen smirked when he heard the shuffling of the prince righting his book.

“One of these days, you will know what it’s like to care for other people.”

“I care,” Jensen argued immediately. He shuffled around to face his master, but was stopped from explaining more when he was then facing a rather stern look. Jensen tsked and turned back to the window and regretfully watched the crew prance around having the time of their lives with Samantha leading them on. “You have one good dinner and now you’re the king of romance.”

“I’m not the king yet.”

A strange sense of humor from the prince confuses Jensen, along with the rest of the conversation.

…

Even in the chill of winter, the staff served Samantha and the prince lunch on the patio off his lounge. Jensen stayed inside, watching through the glass, and claimed it was more about the cold and less about being removed.

Jared eyed him strangely as he passed in and out of the room to keep service going and tend to Samantha’s glass when it got low or to bring her a new napkin when she used hers to wipe the prince’s chin. 

She smiled through the meal, and the rest of the crew seemed anxious with joy, and Jensen couldn’t believe he’d watched the whole thing go on.

…

“I trust your stay has been well thus far,” Jensen asked as he entered the library.

Samantha stepped down from a footstool and smiled. It was a warm, subtle gesture she’d used for everyone so far. “Yes, it has. Your staff is wonderful.”

Jensen nodded. “I shall tell them.”

“And I’m telling you.” She tipped her head and her smile grew. “You’ve done a grand job with them.”

He could feel a small blush rise and thought of how the prince couldn’t do anything but flush in her presence. 

“This collection is wonderful,” she said, turning to a row of books and running her finger along the spines. She stuck her finger into an open space and frowned a bit, though it looked sweet on her soft face. “But incomplete it seems.”

“The prince keeps many books in his suite.”

“He is well read.”

“He has a lot of time to read, yes,” Jensen said with a small smile and nod. He moved further into the room as she walked throughout it, looking at the openings between books. He thought instantly of the books the prince had ruined in fits of rage, claws scrabbling over pages and shredding great stories he’d adored. 

“How long has it been like this? In the palace?”

Jensen stalled all thought, his gears grinding to a near-halt. He coughed then took a deep breath. “For quite a while.”

“What happened?” she asked kindly.

He wasn’t prepared to speak of it and knew he shouldn’t either. “It is quite a long story.”

Samantha sat primly at the edge of a chair next to a side table and smile. “We have a lot of time to talk.”

Fumbling to respond, he mumbled, “I cannot …”

She seemed to immediately notice his trouble and regarded him for a few moments before veering differently. “Do you remember? What it was like before?”

Immediately, he replied, “Very well, I do.”

“You must miss it.”

“We all do.” He was surprised at the warmth rising within, at how absolute his admission felt. 

“What did you do before?”

Even more shocking, he could read how she wasn’t digging for information. She was honestly curious and friendly and just _talking_. It’d been far too long since he’d just talked. 

Jensen shuffled over to where she sat and climbed up the side table, standing closer to her. “I had been the prince’s escort for a few years, living in the palace here. And we all … we all worked together and served the prince in his days.”

She smiled as Jensen’s voice carried easily and he was certain she could sense how much he enjoyed his time before. “The staff works well now.”

“It’s not the same.” She hummed and he continued on. “We have not all taken to the change as well as others.” Another soft hum and he cleared his throat, feeling her look pin him. “ _I_ have not taken to it as well.”

“You do miss it?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked with as little emotion as possible.

“I suppose I would. But you all have each other here.”

“And that is all we have,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Sometimes it is too much. I accompanied the prince out into the villages, on voyages, we had visitors. None of that since.”

“You miss the people.”

“Yes,” Jensen said around a lump in his throat, thinking of one in particular. “I miss the people.” He cleared his throat and tried to venture further as carefully as possible. “Madam, if you don’t mind my asking … you are enjoying your time here?”

“Why yes, of course,” she said with a bright smile.

“And your time with the prince?”

“He is a kind host.”

“Kind, yes,” Jensen said plainly, nodding.

She chuckled and tapped a finger at his head. “He has a kind soul. I can see it in his eyes.”

Shock filled him that someone this heartwarming and friendly, someone so beautiful and delicate, could see that in the prince. “You are … you have, think that …”

“Jensen?” she asked softly. “Have you ever just had a good feeling about someone?”

He didn’t reply, but surely, it was seen in his eyes because she smiled. 

“Sometimes it’s just a good feeling you know and can’t let go.”

“Yes, but I … I am …”

“You are what? But a clock?”

He blushed at her playful voice and look. “Yes, a clock. I am a clock that is tired and wary and-”

“Curmudgeonly?”

Jensen frowned even as she laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“You are a bit.”

“This is not helping me one bit.”

“Some people still care for curmudgeons.”

…

Jensen cleared his throat before Misha could turn from his sketches.

“Are you lost?” Misha asked without stopping from where he was dabbing a blotch of red onto a piece of parchment.

“No, I just-”

“Am I needed? Of course I am, I’m always needed.” Misha stood up and glanced over with a rueful smile. “I am always up for servicing the needy.”

“Misha,” Jensen sighed.

“Yes, Jensen?”

He cleared his throat and threw his hands out, shaking out the nerves and also close to throwing a fit for even willing himself into the studio to talk to Misha. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes, many times. Perhaps a dozen or so.” Misha picked up one of his sketches - a pale woman stretched over a chaise lounger with her hands laid across her chest and legs crossed to not show too much of her bare skin. He smiled as he regarded it. “Sometimes with the same person.” Misha sobered and looked at Jensen quite seriously. “Why do you ask?”

“I think the prince is in love,” Jensen answered, not quite lying. 

“And the maiden?”

“I think she has interests beyond what we’ve seen before.”

Misha tossed the sketch to the side and ran to Jensen, shaking him with a great laugh. “That is wonderful news!”

Jensen grumbled and pulled away. “Yes, it is.”

“Then why are you still … you?” he asked, waving a paint splatter at Jensen. 

“I worry for the prince, in case this is not _it_.”

Misha considered him for long moments and twisted his mouth in thought. “And you worry for you.” 

The way Misha could read a person so easily had always shook Jensen up, but it was the very reason he came to the paint brush. “Do you think a person could care for a curmudgeon?”

Misha laughed suddenly, shoved Jensen away, and went back to his sketches. “Oh foolish.”

Jensen gulped and felt his gears spin wildly, realizing it was ridiculous to even ponder the hope. “That’s what I thought.”

“I mean that it’s foolish that you worry over that. The most beautiful being for two scores is thinking of our prince. Anything is possible.”

Jensen wasn’t sure if that was supposed to help, but he had only himself to blame for bothering to consult Misha.

…

Following another successful dinner, Rosey struck up a mellow ballad in the corner of the dining ballroom and the prince spun Samantha around, her yellow dress billowing out and catching the light of the few candles on the walls.

All other lights were down but it was impossible to miss how the prince was softly smiling at the maiden and that she was smiling back the same. 

Jensen felt the hands on his clock face tighten up, stuttering to move with a strange anxiety. It really could be the moment they had waited fifteen years for. The prince could have found a woman to love him for the rough edges and warm interior, and the could all change back. 

He was lost in thought when a soft light grew above his head as Jared sat beside him on the sidebar, holding one candelabra above them. Jared’s face was bright with excitement and Jensen thought back to all the times _before_ that he’d seen this look from Jared, had witnessed it and created it himself when they were best friends in human form. 

“Sometimes it feels like we’ve had to wait for this,” Jared murmured. “That we had to live through the fumbling of candles and clocks and dusters, spilling meals and cleaning up his messes just to truly appreciate this.”

“Even all of our bickering?”

“It was a character builder,” Jared said with a lopsided shrug. “I’m rather surprised you’ve let it happen this time.” 

Jensen didn’t respond - couldn’t come up with the words as he felt something twist and nag. 

“But I suppose there is still time.” When again Jensen kept quiet, Jared glanced over, eyeing him strangely. “Are you still waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

In truth, he was, but he wouldn’t dare voice it. 

“You are,” Jared whispered and shifted back to the prince and Samantha still dancing.

“I’m not. I am just … concerned of what will be if it does happen.”

Jared quirked a smile. “Your worrying is unattractive.”

Jensen sighed and watched Jared witness the dancing across the way. Jared never looked at him again, but Jensen couldn’t mind. He rather preferred the view.

…

Jensen was just about to fall asleep when he heard Danneel’s hushed voice calling for Jared a few doors down. He rolled out of bed to see what the matter was because she sounded equally worried and excited.

As he came into the hallway, Jared and Danneel hurried past him and down the stairs, Danneel still loudly whispering. 

“You must come and see them, it’s going to happen.”

Jensen rushed to follow and came to an abrupt stop at Jared’s back when he and Danneel had also stopped in the doorway to the library. 

The prince and Samantha were standing rather closely near one wall of books as he read poetry, only barely looking at the pages. Samantha had her face tipped up to him, soft and lovely as she listened intently to his low voice recite line after line from perfect memory.

Jensen’s gears sped up, clinking together, and he set a hand to Jared’s arm to keep himself upright. All three rumbled with anticipation as they could sense the prince and maiden shifting even closer to one another. 

“Oh my God,” Danneel murmured as the prince leaned down and paused. Then Samantha set her hand to his shoulder and closed the space between them with a soft kiss. Danneel squealed then slapped feathers over her mouth. 

The kiss felt like it lasted ages, and yet the minutes after it dragged on for eternity as Prince Jeffrey and Samantha stared at each other and nothing else happened. There were no gusts of wind. no slivers of light and magic, no changing of any beast, clock, candlestick, or duster into something else.

They stood still and gaped as all remained the same. 

“I don’t understand,” Danneel moaned. She flapped her feathers out and sniffled. “I don’t _understand!_ ”

“Why hasn’t anything happened?” Jared asked, turning right to Jensen. “It happened. We made it happen and nothing?”

“I don’t know,” Jensen replied dumbly.

“Something should have happened!” Jared yelled, making them all jump, even the prince and maiden. “We did everything right. We helped the prince and she’s fallen in love with him!” Jensen patted Jared’s back in comfort, ready to excuse … something away .. but Jared spun to the library and motioned angrily at them. “What does it take? Must they _say_ it?”

“Maybe that’s it!” Danneel perked up. Then she carefully regarded Samantha. “Do you love him?”

Samantha slowly looked to Prince Jeffrey, eyes roving over his face and hand dropping from his shoulder then suddenly she smiled. “Yes. I love him.”

“And do you, sir?” Jared asked quickly.

Prince Jeffrey twirled the ends of Samantha’s hair and smile, crooked, garish teeth and all. “I do.”

Still, nothing happened and Jensen again tried to ignore the wretched way he felt over having some hope for them all and finding it all for not. He grabbed Jared’s arm, only to be fought for it.

“Jared!” Jensen shouted for his attention. 

“They’re all but married now!” Jared argued. “How can we still be this? I’m still fire sticks and you’re still a stupid clock!”

“Jared,” Danneel said softly, but Jared couldn’t be bothered to listen, storming back into the hall.

“What does it matter?” Jared ranted on. “What do you care? You never believed in love, anyhow.”

Jensen chased after Jared, little feet struggling to keep up with Jared’s base hopping quickly across the tile. “I’ve believed in love.”

“Oh, right, you, Jensen, believed in feelings and hearts and sunshine and rainbows. Once upon a time, maybe, but not for years. You’ve done nothing but ruin all our chances to have anything happen and now we’re stuck like this!”

Jensen yanked on Jared’s arm to spin him around to face. “I have believed in all that. I do, I do right now.”

Jared laughed sharply. “Impossible. Not you, the crazy curmudgeon of the palace.”

“I believe in you!” he shouted before he could stop the words. 

There was a collective gasp and Jensen realized more the staff had woken or come from their stands to find out what all the fighting was about. It didn’t matter because Jared was breathing heavily with his flames flickering, and staring right at Jensen.

“I have loved you,” Jensen murmured. “I have loved you for far too long to never believe in it.”

Jared’s flames drew down to just tiny dots and Jensen was certain he’d blown it, let all of his emotions out for no reason whatsoever. The flames went completely out and Jensen then focused on that. It had never happened before, never for more than a split second, but here they stood for quite too many seconds for it not be a problem. 

“Jared, are you … what is happening?”

“I don’t know,” Jared whispered then suddenly he spun in a circle with flames engulfing him and growing up towards the ceiling. 

Jensen stumbled away from the fire, falling as he mis-stepped and watching as the flames burst out to ash. In their place stood Jared … _human_ Jared at six and a half feet in his navy blue suit, chestnut hair, and gold tassels resting at his shoulders. 

He gaped up at Jared and fumbled to his feet before fireworks popped throughout the room and one by one the staff returned to form. Mrs. Rhodes, Sienna, Colin, Rider, Danneel, Rosey, Misha, Shep, all of them were … really them, and Jensen realized that it wasn’t the prince, not the beast, that needed to find his heart and speak of it. It was Jensen all along. 

Jensen turned to take them all in and his gears completely stopped. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for it to overcome him, and after a count to five, he opened his eyes and was still only a foot off the ground.

“Jared,” Jensen worried as he looked up at him.

Jared crouched down and ran his air across the shape of Jensen’s clock without touching. He furrowed his brow and frowned. “Jensen,” he whispered. “Why are you not changing?”

“I don’t know. I said it. Jared, I said it and now ...”

Jared’s face fell further and his eyes shone. “Jensen, you have to change. _Please_ , I need you to change.”

The hands on Jensen’s face ticked erratically then spun around. They went so fast that Jensen could no longer see Jared’s face before him but for a blur of tan skin and brown hair, making him hazy that he had to shut his eyes. His gears whirred painfully and then it felt like his clock burst open. 

He felt dizzy and stumbled to the side, steadied by hands and then the sure touch of warm skin on his face. Jensen opened his eyes to find Jared right in front of him, only a few inches above him rather than feet, and he felt the tingle of his fingers and toes, his knees bending carefully for the first time in fifteen years. 

Jared was staring at him, cheeks pink and eyes still bright with tears, and then he stroked over Jensen’s cheek. He whispered, “You look just as I remember you.”

Jensen slowly smiled, now feeling his heart beat wildly in place of gears and trinkets. “You are better than my memories,” Jensen replied softly.

There was no more to say for Jared pulled him in and kissed him, and they wrapped arms around each other and pressed their mouths tightly together. 

Applause broke out, the staff cheering wildly, and Jensen figured - partly hoped - it was mostly for them returning to their true forms. 

He pulled back and Jared did as well, blushing just as Jensen was sure he was, too. Jared ran his hands across Jensen’s shoulders, smoothing out his own blue suit jacket, and smiled with dimples creasing his cheeks.

“To think, all this time,” Jared mumbled, “It was just us. So much time wasted.”

“I’d like to think we were meant to go this long,” Jensen said, reiterating Jared’s thoughts earlier that evening. 

“Let’s not go so long this time.”

“I wouldn’t dream of such a thing,” Jensen replied and pulled Jared back in to kiss.

 

  
**SPRING**  


The next season, the Prince married his beloved and the palace shone brighter than the sun streaming in through the grand windows in the ballroom. And rightfully so, the palace’s staff were all in attendance, and at attention. Though there was nary a dry eye to be seen.

Jensen and Jared stood on either side of their prince and – new – princess, paying respects as royal escorts. Yet, they only had eyes for one another, staring over the Prince and Princess’ shoulders with bright, fond looks apiece. They had no care for anything else in the room, evidenced by the precious seconds it took Jensen to respond to the Prince’s intense stare and low clearing of his throat.

“Oh, yes,” Jensen mumbled, pulling the Queen’s ring from the inside pocket of his jacket. As he handed it to Prince Jeffrey, he heard a soft snicker across the way. He glared instantly at Jared, though with hardly any real intent, and mouthed _shush you_.

Jared winked in reply, and that was all it took for Jensen to soften. Then smile as he listened to the new royalty share their vows.

…

When all was said and done, the palace was full of beautiful energy and smiling faces with many in the village in attendance to witness the Prince and his newly crowned Princess on their first wedded day.

Jensen and Jared kept at attention at the front of the ballroom as the newlyweds took to the floor for their first dance. It was led by a poetic melody Rosey had crafted himself the night before. As the keys rang out, Jensen let his arms drop from behind his back with his hands settling at his sides, and before long, he closed the tiny space between them to gently touch Jared’s pinky with his own. Soon enough, Jared wrapped his right around Jensen’s and stood taller, prouder, and smiled with shiny eyes at their masters.

Jensen wasn’t aware the dance was over until the Prince was right in front of him. 

“I don’t know how I never saw it.”

The way Prince Jeffrey glanced at Jensen then gazed adoringly at Samantha was far too obvious to all around them.

“It was a long time for her to come, but she did,” Jensen said then nodded in respect to Samantha. “And we are all glad for it.”

“I meant the two of you, but I will accept the compliment for my wife.”

“Already speaking on my behalf, I see,” Samantha said with a quick smirk. 

“Just once a day, my love,” Prince Jeffrey smiled in return.

“You two shall have the next dance,” Samantha insisted, nudging Jared forward. 

“No, we couldn’t,” Jensen mumbled. “This is your day.”

“For which we have you to thank.” Samantha smiled softly, a warm motion that Jensen was beginning to feel weak for. He was happy for his prince, but even more grateful for this woman to be the one to love the man.

“No, it’s quite alright,” Jensen replied. He stepped back and waved towards the crowd starting to assemble for Rosey’s next song, a slow, quiet ballad. “I care not for the pomp and circumstance.”

Prince Jeffrey eyed him. “Jensen, enjoy a day as yourself and not as my servant.”

“It’s more like he dislikes this song,” Jared broke in. “The more you insist, the more he will fight.” Jensen quickly looked to Jared, and Jared merely raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “I have learned that much in fifteen years.”

It was true, as well as many other things, Jensen thought. “And I have learned that you rather favor all the ridiculous celebration possible in the world.”

“And we have all learned you are easily swayed by your suitor,” Danneel said, appearing suddenly at Jensen’s side. 

The Prince and Princess snickered as they returned to the dance floor. Danneel raised a half-full goblet in salute and Jensen shook his head when he realized it was one of the Prince’s from his study. “Where did you get that?”

“Misha is passing drinks around,” she replied, eyes quickly finding the artist leaning against Rosey’s piano across the room. “This is a celebration, isn’t it?”

“You should stay far from him. He’s been in love scores of times, and often with the same women.”

“Then he shall be experienced.” She winked and tapped his shoulder before heading off.

“So many things are quite different yet so many are just the same,” Jared said wistfully as he took in the staff mingling among the guests. Mr. Beaver, Mrs. Rhodes and the teapots, even Shep, they were celebrating together. And they were all the jovial servants Jensen had remembered from long ago.

Jensen looked up at Jared and felt his smile warm his face. “But all the right things are different.”

Jared shared quite the same look and took Jensen’s hand. “And all the right ones remain.”

“Ever just the same,” Jensen whispered just he went up on tip toes and kissed Jared. 

 

**__**

THE END


End file.
